The Old Castle and Other Stories. Unknown
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don't have him get in there, please," cried tender little Prue.
"Then," said Dudley slowly, "I leaned over the vault, and called his name, 'Bernard! Bernard!' and then I jumped back, and almost screamed, for I thought some other boy had spoken. I did not know my own voice; it sounded so strange and solemn. But no one answered, and I dragged myself away, feeling as if that awful hand grew tighter on my heart, and thinking, as I went out of the door, how two of us went in, and why I was coming out alone. Then I sat down on the grass, and though it was warm summer weather, I shivered from head to foot, and I remember thinking to myself, 'This queer boy sitting here isn't Dudley Wylde—this boy couldn't get angry, he's as cold as an icicle—and Dudley Wylde's heart used to beat, beat, oh! so lively and quick, but this boy's heart is under a great weight, and will never stir again—this boy will never run again, nor laugh, nor care for anything—this boy isn't, he can't be Dudley Wylde;' and I felt so sorry for him I almost cried. Then, all of a sudden, I remember, I began to work very hard. I picked up stones out of the path, and carried them a great way off, and worked till I was just ready to drop. Then I took some flowers, and picked them all to pieces—so curious to see how they were put together, and I worked at that till I was nearly wild with headache. Then I sat very still, and wondered if that boy who wasn't, couldn't be, Dudley Wylde—was ever going home; and then I thought that perhaps if he sat there a little while longer he would die, and that was the best thing that could happen to him, for then he would never hear any one say—'Where is Bernard?' So I sat there in this queer way, waiting for the boy to die, when I heard a noise, and, looking up, saw—"
"Oh, what?" cried little Prue, clasping her hands, "a griffin, with claws?"
But Dudley could not speak, and Bernard went on. "It's too bad for 'Dud' to tell that story, when he makes himself so much worse than he really was. I was as much to blame as he in that quarrel, and I ought to have had my share of the misery. You see, when he threw me over, my tippet caught on the rough edge of the railing, and held me just a minute, but that minute saved me, for in some way, I hardly know how, I swung in and dropped safely on the steps just under 'Dud.' Then I hurried into one of those queer little places in the wall, and hid, for I was angry, and meant to give him a good fright; and as I happened to have a little book in my pocket, I began to read, and got so interested that I forgot everything till it began to grow dark. Then I hurried down, wondering that everything was so still. But when I saw 'Dud,'" said he, turning with an affectionate glance to his cousin, "I was frightened, for he was so changed I hardly knew him, and I was afraid he was dying. So I ran to him, and took him right in my arms, and called him every dear name I could think of; but he only stared at me, with the biggest, wildest eyes, you ever saw. 'Dud,' said I, 'dear
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